ngracious theme,--one's self,"
said he, as they walked along; "but, somehow, I am compelled to talk to
you, and, if you will allow me, confidentially." He did not wait for a
reply, but went on: "There was, in the time of the French Regency, a
man named Law, who, by dint of deep study and much labor, arrived at the
discovery of a great financial scheme; so vast, so comprehensive, and
so complete was it, that not only was it able to rescue the condition
of the State from bankruptcy, but it disseminated through the
trading-classes of the nation the sound principles of credit on which
alone commerce can be based. Now, this man--a man of unquestionable
genius and, if benefits to one's species gave a just title to the
name, a philanthropist--lived to see the great discovery he had made
prostituted to the basest arts of scheming speculators. From the Prince,
who was his patron, to the humblest agent of the Bourse, he met nothing
but duplicity, falsehood, and treachery, and he ended in being driven
in shame and ignominy from the land he had succeeded in rescuing from
impending rain! You will say that the people and the age explain much of
this base ingratitude; but, believe me, nations and eras are wonderfully
alike. The good and evil of this world go on repeating themselves in
cycles with a marvellous regularity. The fate which befell Law may
overtake any who will endeavor to imitate him; there is but one
condition which can avert this catastrophe, and that is success. Law
had too long deferred to provide for his own security. Too much occupied
with his grand problem, he had made himself neither rich nor great,
so that when the hour of adversity came no barriers of wealth or
power stood between him and his enemies. Had he foreseen this
catastrophe,--had he anticipated it,--he might have so dovetailed his
own interests with those of the State that attack upon one involved the
fate of the other. But Law did nothing of the kind; he made friends
of Princes, and with the fortune that attaches to such friendships, he
fell!" For some minutes he walked along at her side without speaking,
and then resumed: "With all these facts before me, I, too, see that
Law's fate may be my own!"

"But have you--" When she had gone thus far, Sybella stopped, and
blushed deeply, unable to continue.

"Yes," said he, answering what might have been her words,--"yes, it was
my ambition to have been to Ireland what Law was to France,--not
what calumny an